


A Tragedy

by LupaDracolis



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Gen, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-14
Updated: 2011-12-14
Packaged: 2017-10-27 08:30:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/293766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LupaDracolis/pseuds/LupaDracolis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This fanfic occurs approximately two thousand years before the thwarted apocalypse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Tragedy

“Hey, Aziraphale?” Crowley knocked on the angel’s door. “You there?” There was no response, so he climbed through the hole in the mud-brick wall that passed for a window. The fact that his 5 foot 7 human corporation shouldn’t be able to do that so easily didn’t particularly trouble him.

 

The room before Crowley was plain, and bare save for many stacks of scrolls on the table and chairs against the far wall. In one of the back corners sat the angel Crowley was looking for, rather untidy wings wrapped around him. His sorrow was almost tangible in the air of the room.

 

“Angel? I heard about what happened… I-” but that was as far as Crowley got. Because suddenly there wasn’t a miserable ball of angel curled up in the corner. Instead, there was a glowing figure, wings partially-unfurled*, face full of divine wrath. The only thing that was missing, really, was the flaming sword.

 

“Tell Me You Had Nothing To Do With This, Demon, Or I Shall Smite You Where You Stand.” The voice had echoes of heaven in it that made Crowley wince.

 

“Inside voice, please, Aziraphale.” Was clearly not the right answer, since almost as soon as it left Crowley’s lips, the angel was across the room and one hand was clasped around his throat.

 

“Tell Me Thou Hadst Naught To Do With This!” there was more than an echo now, and it was almost as if Aziraphale had a choir backing his words. The effect was more than enough to make Crowley understand how those shepherds had felt when Gabriel appeared to them a few score years ago.

 

“No! Nothing to do with me, I swear!” he gabbled quickly, glad he didn’t actually need the air Aziraphale was cutting off from his lungs. ** The hold around his neck relaxed slightly.

 

“You promise?” and Aziraphale was back, his luminescence fading.

 

“I said I swear, didn’t I? Now let go will you, angel?”Aziraphale obliged, stepping back and looking at a point situated somewhere over Crowley’s shoulder. His inner light was all gone, now, along with his wings. In fact, he looked slightly embarrassed.

 

“I am sorry, Crowley dear, I shouldn’t have blamed you. It’s just…”

 

“You figured only a demon could do this sort of thing?” Aziraphale had the grace*** to blush slightly.

 

“Well I suppose, yes.” He turned from Crowley and began to shuffle through the scrolls on his table, then paused and turned back to face the demon, who was startled and slightly scared to see tears in the angel’s eyes. “But it’s _murder_ , Crowley! Filthy, horrible murder! How… how _could_ they?” to Crowley’s consternation, the tears slowly began to spill down Aziraphale’s cheeks.

 

“For Go- Sa- _someone’s_ sake, angel, it was just a library!” this was another mistake.

 

“ _Just_ a library?” Aziraphale hissed, advancing on him. “ _Just_ a _library_? Do you _know_ how many books and scrolls died in that fire? Do you?”

 

“Well, no… but I really doubt if you do either.” Crowley pointed out, backing slowly towards the door. The locked door.

 

It was the first time either of them had discorporated each other in decades.

 

*The room was only 8 foot across, so it would have been impossible for Aziraphale to open his wings all the way… or even half there.

**You might wonder at his ability to speak without air, but Aziraphale wasn’t even bothering to use his mouth at this point.

***get it? Grace? He’s an angel? Oh, never mind…


End file.
